The overnight fall
Is framed through my bedroom window
This morning
I will wrap myself
In the blanket
Before tires, squirrels and bootprints
Mar my pristine scene.

These are images that once were
The tan lines stretching across your shoulders;
Like starlight from some supernova;
Your photos in my albums;
Our shadows beneath bright suns;
Those ghosts have come and gone.

Then love became a memory;
And memory is the ghost
That frightens me the most.

"Mr. Biden, tear down this wall," pled Juan.

We've never heeded warnings,
We surely won't start now;
Because we ate from a blissful tree,
We're mopping up our brows.
They witnessed a smoking Vesuvius,
Yet went about the day;
We mark washed up bodies
From distasteful lands,
With arms wrapped round each other;
Signed Versailles to end a war,
But postponed it instead;
Ignored the bottle's label,
Drank whitener before going to bed.

We're blinded in Casandra's world,
Ignoring words of peril,
Uttered for our good.

Many of the world's greatest Leaders throughout our tumultuous history have;
Many of  the insightful Revolutionaries in stink hole and glory hole countries have;
Many of the oppressed, disenfranchised and cheated also have.
Look to Lenin, Mandela, Gandi, Nehru, Havel, Bhutto, Ceausescu, Charles I, Papadopoulos, Lady Jane Grey, Louis XVI, Marcos, Milosevic, a pile of Mohameds, Mussolini, Nicholas II, Pinochet, Saddam, Marie Antoinette, Pope Clement V, Selassie, Baghdadi, Duvalier, and, let's not forget the author of Mien Kampf, Adolph the Tenderizer.
And what do they all have in common?
Some, before they became boldly notorious, and others, after they became criminally notorious.
Some, looked out their window and saw platforms being erected.
Others witnessed gallows, guillotines. posts and walls.
They all got some time in:
PRISON. GAOL. JAIL. COOLER. LOCKUP.  DUNGEON. KEEP. PEN. BASTILLE. CLINK. STATESVILLE. SLAMMER. STOCKADE. THE BIG HOUSE.
You get the idea.
His time will come.

He could be you;
Then again,
So might she,
Be you,
Should you be
A S/He.
Q.

I am part of your smile today.
I might be in the curl of your lip,
In the corner glint of your eyes;
Or the concave of a dimple.

I will trip across your tongue today
When you speak of plans;
I will be today's man,
Clear the wreckage from the storm,
The tempest that began your day,
Reminding you we too were young.

When on your morning walk,
You might feel my hand slip in
And be with you awhile,
In your thoughts and smiles.